‘How lovely,’ Miss Goodson breathed when she saw the fountain. Water spilled from the hands of Venus into the small pool, and a small frog swam within the fountain. She walked alongside him, her hand pressed against his arm. The slight touch made him feel conscious of Miss Goodson’s every movement, and it was strange to realise that he was enjoying her company.
Her green eyes shone with fascination and she was delighted with the garden, even though naught was blooming. ‘It will be filled with roses, come the summertime.’
‘There are roses, aye.’ He didn’t know what else to say besides that. Miss Goodson waited a moment, as if she were expecting more. When he said nothing, she stopped beside a stone urn and offered an encouraging smile. It was almost a silent battle of wills, as if she expected him to say more and he didn’t want to. He had never been one for long conversations.
‘Is there anything you would like to converse about, Locharr?’
He shrugged. ‘Nay.’ He liked the calm feeling of quiet. But from his governess’s expression, she appeared concerned.
‘When you are in London, be careful about long moments of silence with Lady Regina,’ Miss Goodson said. ‘She is the shyest young woman I’ve ever met, and I fear that if the conversation stops, it could be very uncomfortable for her.’
He didn’t see a problem in that, but he supposed some women might feel that way. ‘What are you wanting me to do?’
‘If you do not know what to say, you can always ask a question. Why don’t you ask me anything?’ Miss Goodson waited, and when Lachlan realised she wasn’t going to relent until he said something, he fumbled for a question. But came up with nothing.
He finally shrugged again and answered, ‘I’ve no idea.’
‘Let’s try this. Pretend you are the lady.’ She lowered her voice and said in a growling tone, ‘Lady Regina, how long have you been in London?’
‘That’s a daft question. They come to London every Season.’
She bit back a laugh. ‘Yes, you and I know that, but won’t you play along for the sake of conversation? Just give it a try.’
He raised his voice to a falsetto and said, ‘You already know I come to London every Season.’
Miss Goodson held back her smile, though her eyes shone with mirth. In a low tone, she said, ‘The weather has been very rainy, as of late.’
Honestly, her idea of a conversation was not that interesting. ‘Why should I care about the weather?’ he asked. ‘Why should she?’
Miss Goodson reached out to touch his arm. ‘Patience, Locharr. Just give me a moment longer, won’t you?’
He couldn’t conceive of how this could have any merit at all. And she was making him feel foolish by playing the part of the lady. ‘Fine,’ he gritted out.
‘Let’s try it one more time. Now that we have talked about her travels and the weather, I might venture onto a new topic to get better acquainted.’ She cleared her throat and stared up at him. ‘You should try to make eye contact with the lady when you are speaking to her. So much is revealed in the eyes.’
Then she straightened and said in a deep voice, ‘It has been many years since we have seen one another, Lady Regina. I was wondering how you enjoy spending your time. Do you paint?’
Lachlan understood what she was trying to show him, but he couldn’t resist the urge to make the conversation more interesting. In a falsetto, he said, ‘No, I find painting dull. I prefer hunting.’
Miss Goodson bit her lip hard and shook her head. ‘A lady might not indulge in hunting.’
‘Now you’re wrong in that,’ he countered. ‘Many ladies enjoy hunting. And I thought you were wanting to play along?’
‘Fine,’ she sighed. In her deep voice, she uttered, ‘Fox hunting or deer?’
‘Boar,’ he said in the high-pitched voice. ‘I enjoy gutting pigs.’
At that, Miss Goodson no longer suppressed her laughter. Her eyes filled with mirth, and her hearty laugh brought about his own smile. ‘You are incorrigible, Locharr.’
He knew it, but he hadn’t been able to resist the urge. ‘And now you see that giving me lessons would be impossible.’
She shrugged at that. ‘Actually, I believe it would be very rewarding to help you. I should be glad of the opportunity.’
They walked out of the garden and into the inner bailey of the castle. Miss Goodson glanced up the staircase and asked, ‘Might we walk along the battlements so I can have a look at the sea?’
He saw no reason why not and guided her towards the stone stairs. The castle had been built so long ago, there was a walkway along the parapets where the archers used to keep guard. The wall along the edge was low enough that she could see the expanse of trees below and the sea in the distance. The morning sun was hazy, but it sparkled upon the surface of the water.
Miss Goodson’s face brightened at the sight of the water. ‘You truly have the most beautiful home, Locharr. I should love a view like this. It’s wonderful.’
‘It is verra fine,’ he agreed. ‘But it’s a costly view. And if I mean to keep this castle, I will need those twenty thousand pounds.’
‘Lady Regina is a most fortunate woman,’ Miss Goodson said. ‘I would marry you myself to live in a castle like this.’
Though her words were light-hearted, his imagination conjured the vivid image of Miss Goodson walking along these parapets as Lady of Locharr. Her blonde curls framed a lovely face, and her green eyes warmed at the sight of his home. He wondered how she would look after being thoroughly kissed. Would a soft moan escape that mouth while she surrendered to his touch? Was there more to Miss Goodson beneath those prim and proper ways? A darker side of him thought about unravelling her sensibilities, tempting her into sin.
It led him to wonder why she had not married after her father had left them. Her sisters had done so. What had caused her to seek employment on her own instead of seeking help from her family? He studied the young woman, wondering what secrets she was hiding. Though Miss Goodson was cheerful and seemed glad to be teaching him, he suspected that there was more beneath the surface. Her eyes gleamed with enthusiasm as he’d shown her Locharr. It was a sharp contrast to his own weary view of the world.
‘Would you like to walk a little further?’ he suggested. ‘There’s a glasshouse in the gardens on the opposite side of the grounds.’
She brightened and took his arm again. ‘I would love to continue our walk.’
He guided her through the gardens towards the structure that was inspired by a birdcage. The maid was falling further behind, but it seemed that Miss Goodson was either unaware or didn’t seem to mind. As long as there was a chaperon within a certain distance, that was all she cared about.
His grandfather had built the glasshouse for his wife, and it contained some of the more exotic plants and trees that were too fragile for Scottish weather.
Miss Goodson appeared in awe of the building, and for a moment, she was quiet as she explored the plants. When she reached one of the trees, she asked, ‘Is this a banana tree?’
‘Aye. My mother had it brought over from the Caribbean.’
She reached up to touch the tiny green bananas as if she could not believe they were real. ‘I’ve never seen a banana tree before. It’s smaller than I thought it would be.’
‘This one is,’ he agreed. ‘But they can grow much larger. We have to keep it inside the glasshouse.’
‘I wonder what else your mother will bring back from her travels?’ Miss Goodson mused. ‘It sounds fascinating.’
‘Ever